Small Apartments Page #5

Synopsis: When a clumsy deadbeat accidentally kills his landlord, he must do everything in his power to hide the body, only to find the distractions of lust, the death of his beloved brother and a crew of misfit characters, force him on a journey where a fortune awaits him.
Genre: Comedy, Crime, Drama
Director(s): Jonas Åkerlund
Production: Sony Pictures
  1 nomination.
 
IMDB:
6.1
Rotten Tomatoes:
33%
R
Year:
2012
96 min
Website
172 Views


Hello.

I don't know you.

Well, now you do. I'm Burt

Walnut. I'm a fire investigator.

You Mr. Allspice?

What do you want?

I'd like to ask you a few

questions about your landlord,

Albert Olivetti,

if you don't mind.

Come on.

Do I smell turpentine?

Wow. You're really good.

You're some f***ing

great investigator.

See,

I clean my brushes with it.

Look, what do

the cops want with Albert?

I'm not a cop.

I'm a fire investigator.

Well, apparently there's no fire

here, so what is it that you want?

Well, I...

I'm sorry to inform

you that Albert Olivetti

died in a fire last

night at his home.

Is he all right?

No. He's dead.

Were you friends?

His wife died about

the same time mine did. And...

So we knew each other

You know, this was all

supposed to be temporary.

You know, I sold the house

when my wife died.

I could've gone anywhere.

You know, Florida, Hawaii.

Wherever.

I came here.

Then I realize I've been in

this same f***ing apartment

for 13 years.

I do the

same thing every day.

I take this walk down to the

corner to the Chinese restaurant.

I come back here and I eat my

chicken fried rice every day.

In this shitbox.

Hey, what the f***

did you want anyway?

Well... I'm sorry.

Who are you avoiding?

Your wife or your mistress?

I said, who are you avoiding?

Your wife or your mistress?

Huh?

Wife.

Something she did

or something she didn't do?

Someone she did.

Someone? That's a big one.

Yeah, that is a big one.

Well, was it a "one and

done" kinda deal? One of them?

She swears.

Personally, I'd forgive her.

Really?

Look,

you're not

a young buck anymore.

Living alone, as you can

tell, is not terrific.

When was the last time

you saw him? Saw who?

Olivetti.

I didn't see him exactly, but

I knew he was in there because,

lot of noise, they were banging around

like a couple wolverines wrestling.

But then last night,

I see that,

that moron, he's packing. He said

he's moving to Sweden or something.

Would you mean Switzerland?

Sweden, Switzerland,

wherever they think

a giant elephant tusk

is a musical instrument.

I don't know. Look, you're the

investigator, you investigate.

Okay.

What the f***

does it mean, anyway?

All right, listen,

you've been a big help.

It's all bullshit.

So, thank you.

Thanks, dude.

Tommy.

Hey, Simone.

Do you remember

what day it is today?

Today.

Me.

I'm leaving.

Oh, right. Yeah.

'Tis that season again.

The Sisterhood of

the Traveling Panties.

You and your buddy,

headed to Vegas.

Good luck with that, Simone.

You don't believe I'd get hired by

the first dance club I walk into?

First of all, unless you

call it what it really is,

a strip club, AKA titty bar,

maybe you're

not ready to grind

your bare ass against

some old pervert yet.

You know, I'm not saying you

can't. I'm just saying if you do,

you're gonna be "that girl. ' '

What girl?

"That girl. ' '

What girl? That girl

whose mom had her at 15

and won't let her date because she

doesn't want to be a grandma at 30.

That girl who uses

sex on all the boys

like her p*ssy's

some universal remote,

and then thinks we're a**holes

when all we wanna do is bang her.

You know, there's 10 of these

chicks in every strip club

like mass-produced

Barbie dolls.

Except for they don't come

with a Malibu Dream House.

They come with

stretch marks and STDs.

Is that your goal, Simone?

What are you, a psychiatrist?

You're a f***ing pothead,

Tommy!

Yeah, a pothead who's five credits

away from his degree in psychology.

Why don't you finish?

Because I don't

wanna be "that guy. ' '

At least I have a plan.

What is your big goal?

All I see is a stoner who

works in a convenience store.

In

a convenience-based society.

I am at

the center of the action.

I have goals and I accomplish

something every day.

What are you going to do? Twirl your

titties for some Asian businessman?

Good plan.

F*** you, Tommy.

Jerk off.

Come on, Simone.

I'm just jagging you.

F*** you.

Walnut. Coroner gave me a preliminary.

Oh, this should be

interesting. Shoot.

Report says massive trauma

delivered beneath victim's chin

enough to snap

his neck, I guess,

and to the rear of

the victim's skull.

Puts time of death around

Medical examiner's conclusion,

homicide by

blunt force trauma.

Ouch.

Let me ask you something.

This trauma,

could it be caused by

something like a horn?

A horn? Like a trumpet?

Yeah.

Louis Armstrong killed him.

Louis Armstrong?

The first guy on the moon?

What, do you mean

like a French horn?

No. Like a horn.

Like a long horn.

Like the kind the guys with the

short pants play in the Alps.

You know, in the mountains.

They use them to sell

cough drops. A horn.

Cough drops? What the

f*** are you talking about?

What the f*** are

you guys talking about?

Never mind.

I got a present for you.

What's her name?

Search and seizure.

Hello, sweetheart.

Which one is it?

Yeah, you can

smell it from here.

Come on, man.

S'up?

What's up?

Let me get those

Bilson Menthols. Hard pack.

All right.

Come on, focus, man.

Let's go.

Put all the money on the

counter, man! Do it now!

Yeah, yeah!

Dude...

Just do it, man!

Don't f*** with me!

Yeah, don't f***

with him! Sh*t!

F***!

Get the money, fuckface!

The money!

The money, fuckface!

Grab the f***ing money! F***!

Just give me a second

to capitulate, man!

All of it, man! Pull out the

tray, shithead! All of it!

Lift up the tray, shithead! Come

on, man, we ain't f***ing around.

Fuckface, let's go!

Come on, man, the money!

Fuckface, sh*t, f***!

F***! F***! F***!

Is someone back there?

No.

Tommy!

Hey.

You're okay.

I'm sorry I made fun of you.

Shut up, okay?

Whatever your

dream is, that's okay.

Tommy,

you shut up about that.

Okay? You shut up.

You just have to breathe.

Why'd he have to shoot me?

Just breathe.

I want my mama.

I know.

I know.

Help's on the way, okay?

It's okay.

You're gonna be okay.

Don't be sorry.

Oh! Guess who?

It's the cousin f***er.

Yep. She's f***ing my own

cousin. Do you believe this?

You probably do

because you're a dog.

That's what dogs do,

they f*** their own cousins.

That's why they're dogs.

They don't know.

Did you ever ask when you're sniffing

around an ass, "Hey, are you my cousin?"

You don't.

You just f*** away.

You're a cute little guy.

You want some? Come on,

don't make me drink alone.

Come on.

How'd he do?

Number one and number two.

I'm so f***ing jealous.

That's a good boy.

Whoever he is.

You all right, Burt?

Yeah.

Good boy.

What kind of man

abandons his dog?

Okay. That's a good boy.

You wanna go home, huh?

Okay. Yeah, I got it.

What's with all

the police cars

in the neighborhood?

What's going on?

There was a shooting at that

convenience store down the block.

DOA.

Victim was this

guy's neighbor.

A Thomas Balisteri.

I spoke to him this afternoon.

That goddamn phone has been

ringing non-stop. Jesus.

He's an old-timer.

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Chris Millis

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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